One Step Forward, Two Steps Back
by Mossnose173
Summary: Riley's enemy is incarcerated and the team is no longer threatened by his freedom. But Riley's road to recovery isn't as smooth as everyone hoped. The arrival of a new criminal could prove more fatal than the last. Note: This is the fourth story of the Riley series. There are numerous mentions of abuse, especially child abuse.
1. Prologue

**Without further adieu, here is the beginning to the latest Riley story! WARNING: this chapter specifically involves murder and child abuse.**

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 **Smithtown, Virginia: 6 months earlier:**

"Please! Let my family go. Please!" the man begs as a larger fellow circles around him, tapping a knife against the palm of his hand. Beside him, the rest of the man's family struggles against their own restraints. His son whimpers as the larger man brushes the knife past his cheek.

"Leave him alone!" the man's futile scream echoes off the basement walls.

A chuckle comes from the man in charge and he continues to encompass the family. Each of them sits in a chair with their backs to each other. The husband, the head of the family, the strongest, faces the wall away from the stairs. The mother, the caregiver of the home, faces the stairway. And lastly, the son, the fruit of the family, the apple of their eyes, sits between them, facing another wall. All three form a triangle of wooden chairs in the center of the room.

The man limps around to the wife and brings the knife up to her throat. She tilts her head back as a reaction to the dagger and tears stream down her cheeks. A sob escapes her lips and the man smiles before moving toward the son. Both of the parents turn their attention to him and quake with fear.

Petrified, the boy looks up at his assailant. The man smirks down at him and drags his knife down the boys' arm, leaving an oozing valley of tissue. A cry of pain comes from the boy and his parents shriek with horror.

"You know I had a family once," the man says ominously with his head cocked to one side. "It didn't work out." With his free hand, he reaches up and touches the scar across his eyebrow and forehead. Shaking his head and forcing the memories back into his subconscious, the man returns to the woman.

"I had a wife. Just like you." He slaps the woman and she gasps and cries out. Her holler is cut short as his blade slices her throat; she takes her last breath and droops in her seat.

The husband turns to look at his beloved wife and desperation sweeps over him. "Violet? Violet! Stay with me sweetie! Come on, Violet!"

The man staggers in front of the husband and looks down at him. Anger wells in the husband, this man killed his wife, a white hot intensity burns through him as he imagines ripping this man's throat out. He pulls at the restraints around his wrists but nothing budges, so he finds it sufficient enough to glare at the killer.

"You sick son of a…" the husband doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence. The attacker slices his throat without skipping a heartbeat.

Disregarding him like a piece of last week's lunch meat, the man returns to the son. The young boy looks from his mother to his father and tears spring to his eyes.

"Why are you doing this?" he sobs.

The man ignores his question and slaps him across the face twice. The boy looks up at him with anguish in his eyes. Why is this happening to him? Who is this man? What does he want with this family?

"And I had a son, just like you; always crying and sobbing and just being a persistent pest." The man snorts and continues. "I like this feeling." He takes the knife and drags it down the boy's forehead, stopping at the tip of his nose. Blood and tears mix as they stream down the boy's face.

"I've never done anything this…extreme before." He grins. "Until now." He dances the blade across the boy's exposed chest leaving a few jagged cuts.

Breathing heavily, the man proclaims, "It gets better and better!" Another slice goes across the boy's collarbone.

"Please, stop!" The boy exclaims as fat tears roll down his face.

"You're as worthless as my son! Stop blubbering! Just…just shut up!"

A split-second cry is heard before the blade finishes the boy off. Pleased with his work, the man slips the knife into his pocket and thinks as he walks up the basement stairs. _It does keep getting better and better. I want to make it even better. I want to make sure I save the best for last though_. A cruel smile sprawls across the man's sinister face as he realizes his ultimate goal, his final project.

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	2. Chapter 1

**Here's the next chapter! Just giving a little backstory for Wren while setting the scene and such!**

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Glorious, golden light streams through the hospital room window, casting one of its rays across the girl's face. Riley opens her eyes to the blinding light and realizes there's no way she will get back to sleep like this. She tries to turn herself around but between the overall ache of her body and the additional body beside her, she finds moving is next to impossible. Sighing, Riley tries to close her eyes and ignore the disturbance, but the aurora is just too bright for her eyelids to block out.

 _I can't sleep like this; I need those blinds closed. But I can't get up._ Riley looks down at the person beside her. Wren's young, innocent face is buried into the pillow. He looks so blissful that Riley hesitates before waking him up. She's never seen him like this, so peaceful.

Wren shifts, turning toward her, and Riley seizes the moment to wake him.

"Wren," she whispers quietly.

No response.

"Wren." Riley repeats his name louder and with a little nudge on his shoulder but there's still no reaction.

"Psst, wake up." Riley pats his exposed cheek, hoping this will awaken him.

As skin touches his cheek, Wren's eyes snap open and he sits bolt upright in the bed. He clutches his cheek, panting heavily, as if he had just run a marathon. Riley is taken aback by his reaction but reaches up to try and soothe him.

"Shh. Shh. It's O.K Wren. I'm right here. Shh. It's alright Wren."

He looks over at her and seems to recollect where he is and what's going on. His breathing slows down and he relaxes but stays in his upright position. Riley, with effort, sits up and leans against the pillows. She looks at him with concern, this has never happened before. Was he having a nightmare or did she give him one?

"What's wrong, bud?" she asks as she strokes his hair.

"I…I just remembered something. That's all."

"Well it mustn't have been good." Riley pauses before asking. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Wren shakes his head vigorously. A scared look crosses his eyes and he looks frozen to the spot.

Puzzled, Riley tries again, "Are you sure? It might make you feel better."

He looks from side to side and then down at his hands before finally responding, "Real..really?"

"Sure it will. I promise."

Wren twists up his face and stares ahead. "It's a memory from my original family. I think. I think it has to do with my Dad." He closes his eyes tightly and continues. "I..I can't quite remember what it is."

"Alright, I can help a little. Now what I want you to do for me Wren is close your eyes more loosely. Just relax. Now take yourself back into the memory. Pretend you're actually there again. O.K?"

"But I'm scared."

"Shhh. I'm right here Wren. No one can hurt you with me here."

He nods and relaxes before starting. "I...I'm in the basement again. Daddy sent me down here to 'think about what I've done' after I didn't finish my supper. I…I'm sitting in the dark and dingy basement of my old house. I hated it down there. I was afraid of the monsters that could have been in the dark. I read about monsters all the time and it only made me fear them more."

Now I see a light at the top of the stairs. The sound of Daddy's heavy boots makes me stand up. I see…I see his shadowy figure, outlined in the light, work his way down the creaky stairs and stand in front of me. His mouth is pressed into a hard line and his eyes are like two stones; cold and hard."

Daddy slaps me across the face and I whimper. No matter how many times he slapped me I never got used to it."

Riley rubs his back, encouraging him to go on.

"'Why didn't you finish your dinner?' he demands in his deep, gravelly voice."

'I...I.' is all I can get out before he hits me again."

'Don't stammer! Tell me why'!"

I hang my head as I reply, 'I just couldn't.' My weak response is met with a shove to the concrete floor. My elbows hit first and they bleed."

A tear rolls down my face but before I can really start crying his voice booms, 'Get up and quit cryin'!"

I do as he says and stand up, avoiding any eye contact."

'Are you gonna do it again'?"

'No,' I whisper."

He slaps me again. I can taste the metallic tang of blood on my bottom lip. The idea of blood makes me want to cry more but I hold in the feeling."

'Is that how you speak to me'?"

'No, sir. Sorry, sir.' I repeat for the hundredth time in my life. Daddy stands straighter and seems to relax a little. He has my submission; he always loosened up when I gave into him. After he relaxes the real punishment comes."

'Since it seems you have no respect for the food that is prepared for, you won't eat it tomorrow. You will come to dinner, sit in your chair and watch your mother and I eat. Understood'?"

My tummy rumbles, knowing it will be deprived of food. It hates when this happens, it tells me so through growls. But there's no way to satisfy it; whatever Daddy says, goes. I know better than to argue so I keep my mouth shut and nod a few times."

Daddy gets a smug smile on his face and tells me to go to my room. I nod with my head down and walk toward the stairs. It feels like a journey up Mt. Everest but I finally make it to the summit. The light is a little too bright for me at first but my eyes adjust quickly; they were practically trained to make these sudden changes."

Mommy is sitting at the kitchen table, looking at her laptop, and doesn't even notice me as I come in the room. This is pretty typical. She doesn't move a muscle as I shamefully walk through the kitchen, down the little hallway, and up another flight of stairs. This climb feels shorter, thankfully. I walk down another, shorter hallway and open the door to my room."

Riley interrupts him, "Shhh, that's enough. That's alright." Delicately, Riley wraps her arms around Wren and holds him close, trying to bring him back into the present where he's safe.

He rests his head on her shoulder and tears stream down his face. She rubs his back and encourages them to flow. Rocking him back and forth, soothing him, like his mother should have.

"Shhh. It's all over. You're safe now, alright? Whenever you think about something from your past I want you to remember that it's over. The past is over. You're safe here, in the present. Those memories, they can't hurt you anymore see? You're Daddy can't hurt you anymore." Riley explains.

Wren wipes his nose with the back of his hand and looks up at Riley. Pools of tears loiter in his eyes as he replies, "I...I've never thought of it like that. I've just always been afraid and I don't know why. That, that does make it better."

Riley wipes the tears off his cheeks and strokes his head once more. "Glad I could help," she says with a small smile. "Now, there's something you can help me with. Will you get up and close those blinds for me, please? The sun was in my eyes and it was really getting to me."

A smile appears on the young boy's face and his fear is replaced with enthusiasm. "Sure!" He practically jumps out of bed, walks across the chilly, linoleum floor, and closes the blinds. The room turns a shade darker, relieving some of Riley's headache. She sighs with relief and falls back onto the chilled pillows. Riley doesn't notice Wren as he climbs in beside her and falls asleep with her; she was out as soon as her head hit the pillow.

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 **Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed feel free to follow or favorite! And as always, feedback and reviews are welcome!**


	3. Chapter 2

**So I was really feeling this hospital scene and wanted to give some setting for Riley and get the team started on the case. So here's the next chapter! Hope you enjoy!**

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"Riley…Riley wake up," a voice softly sounds from the side of her bed.

She opens her eyes slightly and catches a glimpse of Reid standing beside her bed.

Grumbling, Riley says, "Not now, Reid. I'm trying to catch up on my beauty sleep."

Reid chuckles before replying, "You can catch up later; the doctor's here to see you now."

Riley opens her eyes a little wider and for the first time notices a man standing behind Reid. He wears the stereotypical white lab coat and carries a clipboard; making him look professional. Carefully, she sits up and leans her back against the pillows.

Movement beside Riley startles the men and they are surprised as Wren slides out from under the covers. His sleepy eyes drift over the men, assess the situation, and tell his body there's no threat, go back to sleep. Wren lays his head down on the pillow beside Riley and falls back asleep.

She looks over at him, "Yeah, I wish I could go back to sleep too…"

"Riley, we advise only one person per bed," the doctor states.

Riley rolls her eyes and holds out her arms to indicate her situation, "obviously following advice isn't exactly my forte. And besides he's an underweight child so he's like less than half a person. Therefore there's only like one and a fourth people in this bed and one and a fourth always rounds down to one. So, logically, I'm good."

"But, it doesn't really work that way…" the doctor stutters.

"I don't think you came in here to tell me how to round, doc." Riley says coldly.

"Riley!" Reid exclaims. "Watch the attitude."

She hangs her head and apologizes, "Sorry."

The doctor shakes his head and reconciles, "It's alright, I've heard worse." He gives her a shy smile and continues with procedure. "Now, how are you feeling?"

Riley gives him a small smile and replies, "I've felt better."

"For someone who looks like they've been run over by a truck you're abnormally optimistic."

"I feel like I've been run over by a truck. Being 'optimistic' is the only keeping me from screaming for so many reasons right now. "

"Is one of the reasons extreme pain? Should I up your morphine?"

Riley looks down and notices the needle dripping fluids into her left arm through the bandages. Her eyes widen and she rips the device out. Clear liquid drips onto the floor and Riley looks at it with disgust.

"Riley! What are you doing?" Reid shouts.

"I don't want morphine," she hisses.

"It's helping you! You would feel so much worse if you weren't getting it."

"I'd rather…" Riley starts but stops as she reaches up and grasps her head between her hands. She rolls onto her side, ignoring the pain in her side, and cries out.

Reid kneels down to her side and takes an arm in each hand. "Riley, what's wrong?"

The doctor walks over to the monitor beside her bed and tries to diagnose the problem. "Her heart and respiration rates just spiked. Her blood pressure is steady though."

"Riley. Talk to me. What is it?" Reid begs.

"My...my head hurts. Real bad. I...I feel like I can't even feel it!"

"Like a migraine?" The doctor asks.

She nods vigorously but cringes from the head movement. Riley puts pressure everywhere on her head but nothing helps. Anger and desperation rise in her.

The doctor looks to Reid and explains, "The morphine. It was easing the pain and once she took it out her migraines picked up again."

Riley hears him and shakes her head, "No. No, I don't want it!"

"It will make you feel better, Riley! Please." Reid pleads.

There's a pause as Riley thinks with what little brain power she has left. Desperation outweighs morals and she replies through gritted teeth, "Fine. Put it back in me."

The doctor slides the needle back into the vein in her arm and steps away. A few seconds pass and Riley's breathing steadies. She sits back up, still massaging her temples with a grimace.

"You have a severe concussion," the doctor clarifies. He points to the bruises on her forehead with his pen and continues, "Hitting you're head once gave you a slight concussion. The second time really joggled your brain. You're lucky you haven't slipped into a coma, or worse."

Riley rolls her eyes, "Yeah. I'm lucky like that…how-how long do I need the morphine?"

The doctor looks at the machine and replies, "We'll go day-to-day."

"What do you have against morphine?" Reid asks her.

"It's…it's nothing. It's stupid. I don't want to talk about it," Riley replies shyly, looking away.

"What is it, Riley? You can tell me," Reid urges as Riley fidgets under his concerned stare.

 _I don't want the morphine because I don't want to become addicted, like I almost did last time. This morphine feels so good when it takes the aches and pains away. Too good. I almost want it forever, but that's wrong and I don't want to have one more problem added to my stress pile! I don't want this "help", it's too tempting!_

 _But how can I tell him my fear of addiction? He'll think I'm weak and can't take care of myself. I don't need him taking care of me, always watching over me. I can't appear like I can't control myself. I'm my own person and I have to be strong, especially for Wren's sake. I need to be able to take care of both of us; how can I take care of both of us if I can't even take care of myself first?_

The doctor clears his throat, effectively interrupting Riley's thoughts, "If you don't mind, I would like continue with my evaluation. The sooner I finish, the sooner you two can continue this conversation on your own."

Reid gives Riley a final, long look, "We'll finish this discussion later."

Riley rolls her eyes slightly and looks pointedly at the doctor, indicating he can continue. "How are your arms?" The doctor asks, walking to her right side to examine the cast

Riley raises her right arm, "Well the right one feels like a rock," she raises her left, "and the left one feels like it was sliced like salami."

"Nothing abnormal?" The doctor picks her left arm up and looks at the bandages, making sure they are secure and functional.

"Nope. Nothing."

"Good, I will have a nurse come in and redress these wrappings. Now how is your knee?"

Riley shrugs, "Feels O.K I guess. I don't really feel anything."

"Hmm." The doctor murmurs as he places Riley's arm back onto the bed and moves the covers away from her legs. He rolls her pant leg up over her bulging knee. A swollen, purple mass is all that's left of Riley's patella. The doctor pokes it and turns it back and forth, asking Riley if she can feel his poking. Each time the answer is no.

Returning her knee to the state it was in before his prodding; the doctor stands and writes down some notes on his clipboard. "Alright," he says aloud. "I can't be sure whether there is nerve damage or just too many fluids in your knee for you to feel anything. We will give you some fluid pills to reduce the swelling and see if it helps." Riley rolls her eyes at the mention of more medication but the doctor ignores her. "If not, we will do some MRI's. Now, how's your abdomen?"

"It hurts a little but in the same way it did last time. Like the same pain, only it's covering a larger area," Riley yawns and her eyes begin to droop. "I think it's fine, I'll let you know if anything gets weird. Is that all then? Can I go back to sleep?"

The doctor scribbles a few more notes on his tablet before responding, "That's all we really need to do right now, I'll be back later to check on you before I leave for the day." He taps the morphine dispenser with his pen and continues, "Just don't take this out again, got it? And be sure to avoid any head trauma, we don't want to risk anything more serious than it already is; I don't think that will really be a problem in here but I thought I better warn you."

Riley nods and smiles, "Thanks."

He nods back and leaves the room. Riley lets out a long sigh and sinks lower in the bed. Reid gets out of the chair and stands over the bed. She looks up at him expectantly. She can tell he came here for a reason and she wants to know what it is.

"We found out His real name," Reid says after a second.

Riley doesn't respond, she keeps her cool stare on him.

He repeats his sentence, emphasizing the key part for her, "We found out _His_ name."

"I heard you the first time," she says dryly.

"Don't you want to know about Him?"

Riley hesitates before putting her thoughts together, "No. I think it's better I don't know. I have no interest in him anymore. I don't really want to know…"

Reid stares at her for a moment. _Why doesn't she want to know? You know what, it's none of my business and I shouldn't worry about it. I trust her; she will come to me if she wants to know. If anything, this proves that she's done with Him._ He nods and she seems to relax a little.

"Now, about that morphine…" he starts but the chime of a phone interrupts his sentence. Reid reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. Walking away from the bed, he answers it. Riley watches him nod and murmur back once or twice before hanging up. He walks back over to the bed.

"We have another case, this one's in D.C. Gotta go," Reid explains plainly.

Riley smiles, "Call me if you need help?"

He smiles back, "Of course. I'll try and keep you updated."

She yawns and Reid understands it's time to go. He brushes the hair away from her face and whispers, "Rest up. You look like you need it. And keep that morphine in. Don't forget, you owe me an explanation later."

Riley's eyes shut and she replies, "Can't wait." The slow, rhythmic beep of the monitor tells Reid she's already falling into a deep sleep. He turns, picks up his bag, and leaves the room.

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 **Hope you enjoyed! Please follow, favorite, and/or review! Always looking for feedback! :)**


	4. Chapter 3

**Hey everyone! Thanks for reading so far! Hope you enjoy!**

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"Two murders in the last week here in D.C.," Garcia starts the meeting. She hits a button on her remote and images of the murders appear on the screen before the agents. "The first was five nights ago and the second was last night. Both were families that consisted of a mother, father, and young boy. The first family, the Orioles', had a son who was six and the second family, the Rodriguez', had a son who was eight."

"So this man definitely has a specific type; families with a young son," Rossi says.

"Both families were also killed in their basements. All members of the family were bound in chairs and all had their throats slit," Hotch adds. "The unsub keeps playing out the same scenario. He's fixated on a family of three with a son."

"There doesn't appear to be a connection between the two families. The Rodriguez' lived in a wealthy development, lived upstate, and had stable jobs. The Orioles' were middle classed, lived closer to the city, and Mrs. Oriole was unemployed. According to the files, they never made contact or even knew each other existed," Reid remarks.

"It's like this man chooses his victims randomly," J.J says.

"How do we know this is just one man? Look at all the work the unsub puts into the murders. Like you said, they were all bound to chairs in the basement. It takes a lot of work to get three members of a family to sit in chairs in the basement without a fuss, especially by yourself. Either this is a team or this man plans ahead extremely well," Morgan states.

"All of the victims were killed with a blade, making it next to impossible to determine if it was the same knife or different ones. So it is possible this is a team using separate blades or even the same blade," Prentiss mentions.

"Let's take a look for ourselves. Reid and Rossi go to the morgue and check out the victims. Pay extra attention to depths of the cuts on the family members. If they are different depths we could be looking at multiple assailants. Morgan and Prentiss go to the Rodriguez' home. J.J and I will go to the Orioles'," Hotch instructs.

Each member nods in unison, agreeing with their commander in chief. They rise from the table and file out into the world to conduct their assigned tasks.

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Morgan and Prentiss step onto the fine, smooth concrete of the street. They stand and look up at the Rodriguez household. Its' perfectly trimmed bushes and its' well-aligned fence posts are only pawns in the scheme of the neighborhood. All the homes look like clones of each other; every perfectly square yard contains a bush on either side of the walkway leading to the house, a tree on the left side of the front yard, a fence separating the public sidewalk from the private land, and a house which is flawless in itself.

The pair of agents walks up the sidewalk and enters through the impressive threshold. No police workers remain after their busy night bagging and tagging evidence. Morgan and Prentiss walk in and look around at the spacious foyer. A grand staircase leads up to the second floor to the right of them while a hallway to the left heads to the kitchen. A door stands ajar at the side of the corridor. The agents walk to it and look down into what they presume is the basement.

Soft carpeted steps cushion their feet as they walk down into the crime scene. Morgan flips the switch to the right of him at the bottom of the staircase and light replaces the darkness. The chairs remain in a circle at the center of the room; the only missing element is the victims. Both agents take a position on either side of the ring and begin to work out the murder.

"If this is a one man job, who would he bring down here first?" Morgan begins the discussion.

"Bring the father down first? If you have control over the man of the house the mother and son will follow. Or bring them all down at once. Say I have the son held hostage at knife point. The mother and father would give into my demands, they don't want their son killed in front of them, so they follow us down into the basement," Prentiss says.

Morgan looks down at the floor below the chairs. "There are slight scuff marks here," he points to one leg of the chair, "that go to here," he points to the other side of the room. "This was the chair the son was killed in. Now, if there were two people, why wouldn't the free person pick the chairs up? Instead they make the family members do it themselves, obviously the son dragged this one, he wasn't strong enough to lift it like a grown man would."

"If it's the one person, how does he keep them still as he ties them to the chairs?"

"He ties the father first. He's the most likely to fight back, then the mother, then the son. He secures their bounds quickly," Morgan paces around the chairs as he continues, "and walks around them as he thinks about what to do and how to do it. This man likes to feel power."

"The power over scared, defenseless victims…he's a sadist. That's why he tortures them before killing them; he feels pleasure watching them suffer because of him. This has to be a one man job, a sadistic killer like this wouldn't want to share…this."

Morgan stops pacing and nods, acknowledging Prentiss' statement. "He cuts them and makes them suffer before killing them. After killing them, he just leaves the house? He doesn't take anything? I mean, look at this place, why does he resist taking anything?"

"Maybe it's not part of his plans. The other home wasn't as luxurious as this. He must just be in this for the act itself," Prentiss replies.

The agents retrace their steps and head back up to the ground floor. Morgan continues toward the entrance of the house, not noticing Prentiss as she kneels down.

"Hey Morgan, come look at this," she says to get his attention.

The agent comes back and kneels down beside his female companion. Prentiss points to a dark stained region of the carpet with her pen.

"Dried blood. The killer must have gotten some on his shoe as he was leaving," Morgan states. His gaze travels up toward the back of the house. "There's more leading to the kitchen."

The trail directs the duo to the back door of the house. Cold air hits them like a smack in the face as the slide the glass door open. A small, concrete platform introduces them to the outdoors. Beyond the slab is wet, sloppy mud, reminding the agents just how new this house is. They walk out onto the block and look down at the muck. A single set of shoe prints leading into the home and single set leading out of the house give the agents the evidence they came here for.

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	5. Chapter 4

**I wanted to add a little part about Wren because I really like writing about him and it gives a little background into his life. So here it goes!**

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"Why didn't you, you tell me!?" he shouts at me.

I whimper, "What are you talking about?" The wooden chair beneath me is getting harder and more uncomfortable by the second. I don't know what Daddy is yelling at me for this time. He just came home, grabbed Mommy and I out of our bedrooms, and dragged us down to the basement. He sat us in these chairs facing away from each other. But if I turn my head I can still see her; not that she would look at me anyway, not while we're down here.

Daddy walks over to Mommy and screams in her face. He's always like this when he comes home drunk; angrier and more violent than he usually is, I don't like it. It scares me. I'm afraid one of these times he will hurt me so much I won't be able to hide it.

He's standing in front of me again. He has a knife now, where did he get that? I didn't see him go upstairs or anything, he must have had it with him all along. He holds the knife shakily in his right hand.

"I'll give you one more chance. Why didn't you tell me?" he slurs every word. I can barely understand him.

I don't say anything. I honestly have no idea what he is talking about but I don't know how to tell him this without angering him. Scooting back farther in my chair, I close my eyes and wait for my father to hit me. He always hits me when I don't answer him. Seconds pass and nothing happens. I open my eyes and see his wicked grin inches away from my face. The reek of alcohol slams into me every time he opens his mouth to breath. He stares at me and without taking his gaze away; he slices my forearm with the knife.

It's a quick, light motion but it gets my attention right away. I look down at my arm and blood trickles down the side. To me, the simple scratch looks like a life-threatening battle wound. He's never cut me before. I don't know what to do. I panic and cry crocodile tears.

"Stop you're cryin'! God! I can't stand how weak you are."

Daddy slaps me, making my face sting. More tears spring to my eyes. Steam seems to blow out of his ears as he gets more and more frustrated with me. I cower back in my seat and remember that Mommy is here with me. She will protect me, right? Mommy will protect me; she has to. He has a knife this time; that's dangerous! Why isn't she doing anything?

"Mommy!" I call out.

She doesn't reply. She doesn't move a muscle. I turn to look at her. Her head is bowed in resignation. She's not even going to fight for me. Why isn't she trying to protect me? Doesn't she love me? My heart begins to hurt more than my body. I don't understand this feeling, but I can't make it go away like the wounds Daddy gives me. It feels like I don't know how to feel anymore.

Before I can think or do anything more, I feel a slight tug on the back of my shirt. Daddy grabs my collar and pulls me back off the chair. I fall on my back and gasp at the pain but only for a moment. The sting of the fall doesn't even compare to the ache of my heart as I sit on the ground, speechless.

Daddy kicks me in the ribs but I don't move. Truthfully, I didn't even feel it. I don't react at all; I don't know how to react anymore. I feel lost, like I'm not myself anymore. My Mother hates me. I know my father already hated me but my mother? I don't understand, I thought moms were supposed to love you know matter what. Why doesn't my mother do that? Am I….am I useless? Am I not worth it? Am I not worth her love?

I find myself lying on the basement floor. I don't remember what happened but my ribs are starting to ache. Not hurt like my insides, but more like a menacing pain. My mind ignores it and goes blank. I give up. I don't care about anything anymore. No one truly wants me, why should I want myself?

"Are you sorry?" Daddy asks in his gruff voice.

I don't know what I'm sorry for, maybe for thinking I was loved, maybe for thinking I had a purpose, or maybe I'm sorry I was ever born; regardless of the reason I reply to him, "Yes, sir," for I'm sorry for all of these things.

His body straightens and I know he's going to let me go. Usually I cherish these moments but right now I couldn't care less. What does it matter? I'm a hopeless speck of dust in this world. No, I'm sure that speck of dust has parents that love it. I hang my head and wait to be dismissed.

"Go to your room and get to sleep."

I get up and stroll slowly toward the stairs. I take a last look at my mother in the chair at the center of the room. Daddy stands on the other side of her and shouts at her.

"Why did you give me such a useless child?! All he does is cry!"

I tune out his voice and focus on my mother. Her head moves and she turns her eyes to look at me. Pain and anguish cloud her gaze. She never wanted a son like me, and now she has to suffer for me. I can tell she's ashamed of me too, almost as much as my father. She doesn't love me, he doesn't love me, I don't know if I should even love myself anymore. My body droops as I stagger up the steps, hoping my bed can ease my aching heart.

Wren's heart beats faster than a hummingbird's. He opens his eyes to find Riley sleeping beside him in a hospital bed. _It was just a dream. A dream._ Wren hugs himself, wishing the memories away. A tear slips down his cheek as he remembers how difficult those days were. His chest constricts and tightens just like it did that day in the basement.

Riley's words echo in his mind, _whenever you think about something from your past I want you to remember that it's over. The past is over. You're safe here, in the present. Those memories, they can't hurt you anymore see?_

Clinging to her words he realizes Riley is more of a mother than his true mother. Wren wraps his arm around Riley, hoping her presence will make him forget about his past. His heart aches anew. Love begins to fill the cracks that his mother created a long time ago. The pain is different than before. It feels more hopeful, more caring, more loving.

Wren holds onto Riley tighter. Maybe the tighter he holds on, the better he will feel. She is his true protector; she can make everything better and she will always be there for him. Nothing will happen to him with her around.

Riley stirs under his grasp and shifts, getting more comfortable. She drapes her right arm around him and strokes his hair. The cracks fill with cement. The sting in his heart diminishes and he feels whole again. Resting his eyes once more, Wren drifts into sleep with a newfound smile on his face.

"Thank you, Riley," he whispers as he dozes off in peace.

* * *

 **Thanks to the review so far! It's much appreciated! Keep telling me what you all think! Favorite and follow if you're interested too! Thanks for reading!**


	6. Chapter 5

**Hi all! Sorry for not updating in a while! Hopefully I'll get a more steady, organized schedule soon and I'll be able to update more often! Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Automatic sliding doors part as Rossi and Reid enter the morgue and look around for the doctor. Rows of metallic tables fill the room with the exception of a desk, a few tables, and wall of built-in freezers. The air is chilly, accommodating the material for the profession. Their footsteps echo off the marble flooring as the pair walks through the room, looking for the man in charge of this facility.

As if on cue, the doctor walks out from a separate room, notices his visitors, and walks toward them. The three exchange gestures before the doctor gets down to business.

"What can I do for you folks?"

"What can you tell us about the Oriole and Rodriguez families?" Rossi asks.

"Follow me and I'll show you," the doctor walks away toward the wall of freezers, picking up folders on the way over.

"I was expecting you," he holds up the folders for the agents to take. They each take one and look at it as they finish their journey across the room.

The doctor opens three doors and pulls out their contents. The mother is on the far left, the father in the middle, and the son on the right. Reid walks up to the mother while Rossi goes to the father.

"These are the Orioles'?" Rossi asks.

"Yes sir," the doc replies. "The first victims. All three members had their throats slit with about a six-inch blade. I believe the mother and father died first, respectively, and the son died approximately 15 minutes later."

"Really?" Reid walks over to the son and notices the lacerations over his body. "The son was definitely tortured more than the parents. The mother only has a few marks on her…"

"The father has none. So this unsub is focused on the son and the mother," Rossi adds. "As if the death of his parents isn't enough, this man tortures the boy after he kills them."

"This is about the boy. He wants the sons to suffer more than the parents. Why the sons? In cases like this the son is often a surrogate for the killer so why would he be hurting himself more? What does he get out of this?"

"The pleasure of torturing a boy. The boy died 15 minutes after the parents, what do you think was going on during that time period? He wanted to watch the boy suffer…"

"Were the Rodriguez the same?" Reid asks the doctor.

"Not exactly," he replies as he closes the freezer doors. After making sure they are secure, the doctor walks over to the other sidewall, the agents trailing behind him.

He opens three more doors and extracts the contents. At first glance the agents notice no differences. The mother has minimal damage, the father has none, and the son is extremely torn up. It's not until the doctor explains his findings that the agents understand the severity.

"The mother and father were killed first, like the first family, but here the son wasn't killed for another 30 minutes, give or take."

"He's evolving; taking more time to do what pleases him most; torture," Rossi states.

"Also," the doctor adds, "I counted the amount of gashes on the boys. The Orioles' son had 47 cuts while the Rodriguez son had 63."

"He's becoming more enraged and taking the anger out on the children. The father and mother never change, he's only changing what he does to the sons," Reid says.

"He's mad at the sons, not the entire families. Why? Why just the son?" Rossi's rhetorical question hangs in the air.

* * *

Knock! Knock! Knock! Oliver opens the front door to find himself looking up at a strange, new visitor. His six-foot figure makes him look intimidating and monstrous to the young boy. His face lies in the shadow of his baseball cap. He wears jeans, a simple black T-shirt and work boots; a long, beige trench coat covers the ensemble.

Mystery and suspicion seep through Oliver. _Who is this man? He looks scary._ Taking another quick glance up at the man's face, Oliver notices a long, deep scar cutting across his face. It starts at the top of his forehead and cuts down the right side of his face to the bottom of his cheek. His dark, stolid nature frightens the boy but he stands up straight and speaks to the stranger.

"Can I help you?" Oliver's voice shakes as he finishes his sentence.

"I'm looking for a young boy. His name is Wren Hill," the man's deep, throaty voice answers.

Gaining some confidence, Oliver dives into his monologue, "He's with Riley at Northwest hospital. Room 387 I think. That's on the third floor. Riley was hurt real bad like a day or so ago, or so I heard and now..."

The man cuts off the relentless buzz, "O.K. O.K. I get it. He's at the hospital with some girl. Room 387 you say?"

"Yup. Room 387 on the third floor."

"Thanks, kid," the man replies gruffly before turning and limping down the sidewalk. Oliver notices the heavy amount of weight the man puts on his right leg as he tries not to use his left. He shakes off a foreboding feeling and closes the door. Forgetting there ever was a visitor, Oliver sits back down at the table and scribbles out comics in a raggedy notebook.

The man staggers down the street heading in the direction of the hospital. Passing ram-shackle homes and tumbleweed bushes, he thinks about what to do when he gets there. _Room 387, on the third floor. First, ride the elevator up to the third floor, if that wasn't already a given. Next, go to the room and walk in. How will the girl react? Will she give him up easily? Maybe. Maybe, she finds the boy as weak as I do and will give him over without hesitation._ He shakes his head thinking about his worthless son.

 _But what do I do if she doesn't let me take him? Simple. I'll fight and beat her. That annoying kid said she was injured yesterday. God knows what she did, but an injured little girl is no problem for me._ He chuckles. _I think I can take care of a little girl. So I beat the girl, take Wren and get him out of the hospital, how? Threaten him? Hold a knife to his back. He dies then and there if he refuses. Now, where will I take him? The basement of the hospital? No, too busy. The basement of my apartment complex? Yes, no one's ever down there, not even that lazy custodian._ A grin of satisfaction slides across his face. _Yes, that's perfect._

Dragging his mind away from his plans, the man finds himself in the heart of downtown D.C. Crowds of people walk by him, minding their own business and paying no attention to him. Car horns blare from the street beside him, people walk by talking on cell phones, but a distinct noise catches the man's attention. He turns to the shop window beside him and looks up at a showcase of televisions. Moving closer, the voices from inside the shop reach him and he understands what's going on.

A woman with a microphone reads from a report in front of her, "The F.B.I is in search of a man who has killed two families in the D.C area in the last week. The Orioles family," photos of his victims in this city appear on the screen. "And the Rodriguez family," images of his victims from the night before show up beside the existing photos, "were killed in their homes. Police are working on leads and hope to catch this man before he strikes again. If you have any word on a suspicious man please contact the police…"

He walks away, ignoring the rest of the broadcast. Keeping his head low, the man continues walking the streets, wary of everyone around him. Any one of these people could be ready to turn him in. He needs to be more careful. _I can't go to the hospital now, they will catch me for sure; there are cameras all over that place. I can't be seen, what if someone suspects me? They don't know who I am yet, they don't know my face. I've been careful, I'm still safe. But why not stay extra safe? I need a way to distract the police so even if someone gets suspicious I will have time to take the boy and get out of there safely.!_

Turning the corner at Westmont Street, the man looks for indications of where the hospital is. Two blocks later he finds a sign with all sorts of landmarks on it. Locating the hospital in the northwestern part of the city, he decides to go southeast region to find a family.

 _And to make things fun, I won't be picky_. A fiendish smile creeps across his face. _Any family will do…_

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 **Again, thanks so much for reading! Feedback is always welcome and encouraged!**


	7. Chapter 6

Next chapter is up! I just want to thank everyone that's been following this story, sorry I haven't updated in a while! I'm transitioning into a more steady schedule so I hope I can update more consistently! Anyway thanks again! Enjoy!

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The bus ride across town was long, exhausting, and a nuisance, but the man decides it was worth the hassle. If he wants to get away with this cleanly he will have to be careful. Stepping into the refreshing spring air lightens his mood as he looks for the perfect home. Grand, well-sided homes line the streets. Some have large plots with swing-sets and other children's toys while others have small, quaint patches of land. Toward the end of the street the man notices construction and the erection of new homes around mounds of dirt and grass.

Walking along the recently built suburban neighborhood, the man looks at the top-notch houses he could spring for. _Too well guarded. Even though they are new I'm sure these rich folks have already installed the latest security systems. I can't risk exposure over a decoy mission._ He goes another few blocks to the more unsavory homes. As the man walks by a beige, two-story home, the family pulls into the driveway. Their dull maroon station wagon compliments the neighborhood. The family steps out of the car; first the father in the driver's seat, then the mother in the passenger seat, and last but not least, the son crawls out of the back seat.

They calmly walk to the front door of their home and vanish within the dwelling. The man beams. _They will do perfectly._ He takes a glance at his watch. _6:45, it will be dark in about an hour. That'll be the right time. I'll kill some time until then._ He chuckles at his ironic joke as walks away from the home.

One hour and a two mile walk later, the man stands before his perfect home. The lights on the lower level of the home show through the curtains. The family is in the living room. He walks up to the front door and knocks lightly. As he was hoping, the father of the home answers the door.

Confused, the father asks, "Can I help you sir?"

The man keeps his face in the shadow of the baseball hat; but his smirk is visible as he replies, "Yes. Yes you can."

In a quick, swift movement, the man turns his victim around, pulls his knife out of his coat pocket, and holds the blade against his captive's throat. The father holds his arms up in surrender, regretting ever opening the door.

"We're going to do this quick and easy. Understand me?" The man whispers to his prey as he shuts the front door behind him.

The home-owner nods vigorously, not wanting to speak for fear his voice may give away his distress. The captor moves them forward, closer to the family room. The mother of the home notices what's going on and shrieks. The man can't take this nonsense right now.

"Either you shut up or I slice your husband's throat right here, right now," he threatens.

Dead silence. No one dares make a noise breathing let alone screaming.

"That's more like it. Now, everyone in the basement." He points to the mother, "You! Lead the way."

She does as she's told and walks out of the room, followed closely by her son and the two men. The mother opens the door, turns on the light, and walks down into the lower level. It takes a few moments to get the family situated like the others but they manage the correct positions.

"Alright, for the sake of time, I will make this quick and easy, just like I promised."

The man stands in front of the tear-stricken mother and slices her throat with no hesitation. Her head lolls as blood drips down her abdomen. The boy cries out, begging, wishing, praying his mother would get up and this would all be a dream.

Flabbergasted, the father sputters, "You son of a bitch! What are you…"

The man part's his neck faster than the woman's. Blood begins to pool at the center of the three chairs, staining the carpeted flooring.

He limps to stand in front of the cowering boy. "Shhh, it's alright. I will go easy on you," he says with another sly smirk. Tears stream down the boy's face and for a second the man is reminded of his own son. Hatred and anger rises in him. He whips the blade through the air at the speed of light, almost beheading the small boy. The anger remains in him, giving him the extra boost to go to the hospital and complete his goal.

Leaving the basement, the man staggers upstairs and out the front door. He turns to close the door but decides against it. This way his work will be noticed sooner. Stooping down in the yard, the man cleans his blade on the grass and shoves it back in his pocket, saving it for later; its final mission.

* * *

"We believe this is a single unsub, not a team. There was only one set of tracks leading into and out of the Rodriguez home," Prentiss explains. The rest of the team sits around the circular table of the conference room, listening attentively.

"Of course this man is alone," Rossi adds more to himself than the others, "he gets off on torturing the sons. In the first murder the son died about 15 minutes after his parents and had almost 50 cuts on him. The second murdered son had over 60 cuts and was killed about 30 minutes after his parents. The whole reason this man is doing this is for the torture."

"The amount of torture he inflicts on the boys also shows how enraged this man is. He has to have some kind of trigger to do something this extreme to the youngest member of the family," Reid adds.

"But something still isn't adding up here. This man is well organized. How can he be so organized alone? In his first murder he successfully killed a family and got away to kill another," J.J says. "Someone doesn't just wake up one morning and decide to do this."

"Maybe he just plans well?" Prentiss asks.

"No, someone with this kind of drive must have some experience," Rossi replies.

"Wouldn't we have heard if this happened before?" Morgan counters.

Reid stands and moves toward the map of the city hung up on the board. "Not necessarily." He turns to the group and continues, "What if he has done this before but he was smart about it?"

"What do you mean, Reid?" Hotch asks.

Reid ignores the question as the gears in his mind turn. He looks to Garcia sitting at the opposite end of the table. "Garcia look for murders similar to this nationwide."

"What criteria am I looking for?"

"Uh, killed in the basement, family of three with a son, umm slit throats..."

"Alright, alright. That's enough," Garcia says, hearing enough of the grisly details. Furious typing follows for a moment before her jaw drops.

"There's...there's three other cases like this..." she says awe-struck.

"Exactly like this, Garcia?" Morgan asks.

She nods her head and answers, "Yes, all families of three killed in their basement. They had a son around the ago of eight or so. Their throats were all slit. In each case the son showed signs of torture minutes after the murder of the parents."

Rossi looks around at the people in the room, "We're dealing with a man who has killed 15 people. Where were these cases Garcia?"

"The first was six months ago in Smithtown, Virginia. The second was in Baltimore, Maryland four months ago. The most recent was in Parkersburg, West Virginia about a month and a half ago."

"Why does he keep moving around? Why not stay in the same city?" J.J asks.

"He doesn't want to be caught so he moves from city to city to avoid detection?" Prentiss responds.

"Then why kill two families here? I think this man is evolving and those last three murders were building up to here and now," Rossi hypothesizes.

"What if he's following someone? Maybe these families were just test runs, maybe he's following a specific person or family and working on his technique as he goes," Reid rejoins.

Garcia, taking this as a request, searches for families who have moved to and from each of the cities. None.

"The unsub inflicts the most pain on the sons. Maybe that's his target; a boy," Hotch exclaims. "Garcia, look for boys between the ages of five and ten who have been in these cities."

Garcia shakes her head, "Nothing, sir."

"No one? What about foster children? There has to be someone!" Morgan says.

She tries again but the same nothing comes up.

"I have an idea," Reid says as he pulls his cell phone out of his right jacket pocket. No one stops to question him as he dials Riley's number. She picks up almost immediately.

"Hello?" her voice comes through the phone as Reid sets it on speaker for everyone to hear.

"Riley, you're on speaker. We have to ask you something about adoption and foster care," Reid replies.

"Go for it?"

"Is it possible that a child could go to multiple cities but not be accounted for at some. Can they go under the radar?"

"Yeah, that happens all the time. Some kids are moved to two different homes before the paperwork catches up with them... Why do you ask?"

"Okay thanks Riley, that's all we needed."

"No, no! Tell me what's happening, I wanna know!"

Reid sighs as he dives in, "The unsub has killed families in four different cities; D.C being the latest. It started about six months ago and there are five different families. Every murder consisted of taking the family down to the basement, killing the parents, torturing the son, and then killing him. He used a knife to torture and kill them."

"Were the cities close together?"

"They were all in different states, Smithtown, Virginia; Baltimore, Maryland; Parkersburg, West Virginia; and now here."

Riley pauses to think. "Those city names...they sound so familiar." Another pause. "Ouch...migraines..."

Agent Hotchner's phone rings and Reid turns the speaker off to talk to Riley privately. In the background, Reid hears Hotch's formal greeting but tunes him out.

"Are you having more headaches? Tell the doctor."

"No, I'm fine. Really, it just hurts to think a little I guess. I don't know. But I'm fine though, seriously.

"Well get some rest anyway."

"Yeah sure, after I remember where I've heard those names..."

"No. Do it now, don't worry about those names, just get better."

A voice from behind Reid speaks up, "Reid, we gotta go. There's been another murder."

He nods in response and turns to speak to Riley. Before he can even open his lips she declares, "Alright you have to go. I'll call you if I think of anything!"

"No, get some rest!"

He can hear Riley's grumbles as he hangs up the phone. Grabbing his pouch and jacket, Reid races to catch up with the rest of the team. He slips into the elevator as the doors slide together. Breathing a sigh of relief he prepares to face the next piece of this puzzle.

* * *

Thanks again! And please follow and/or favorite if you like here if you haven't already! And as always, reviews are ALWAYS greatly appreciated!


	8. Chapter 7

**As promised, here is the next chapter! Thank you to those who continue to read!**

* * *

She shuts her phone and sets it on the table beside her. Bouts of pain shoot around her brain; the migraines are getting progressively worse. She rubs her temples, wishing the pain away, hoping for a moment of clarity to think. _Come on brain, think! The names of the cities sounded familiar. Parkersburg, Baltimore, and what? Oh and Smithtown. Now where have I heard them? Reid originally asked about foster kids, so maybe it has to do with a foster child. And if I heard the names it might have been someone from my foster home. Who has traveled a lot?_ Riley curses under her breath as another wave of pain rushes over her mind.

"Ouch!" she whispers quietly. Riley looks over at the boy beside her. _Wren! Maybe I can ask Wren? He knows the kids at the foster home better than I do._

"Hey Wren, can I ask you something?" Riley asks conspicuously.

"Sure, what is it, Riley?" he replies without looking away from the glimmering T.V in front of him.

"Do the city names Parkersburg, Smithtown, and Baltimore sound familiar to you?"

Keeping his eyes ahead, he responds forthright, "Yeah, I've lived in all of those places since I was put into foster care. First Smithtown, then Baltimore, and then Parkersburg. I didn't stay at them long. Actually, I think this is the longest I've ever stayed at a place."

Like clouds clearing to reveal the radiant golden sun, Riley's mind clears and the answers come to her. _Wren was in these cities at the time of the murders. He said his Dad would take him down to the basement. But his Dad is dead...or is he?_ She glances at the young, naïve boy beside her. _Is it just coincidence? There's only one way to be sure_. Riley shifts to sit up in the bed, making it easier to face Wren. Grunting and cringing from the effort required to move, Riley finally finds a comfortable position and decides how to ask the divine question.

"Okay Wren, uh, I need to ask you something and it uh, might be a little um, tricky to answer, but..." Riley stammers. _Well that could have gone better._

At the center of his curious face are his crystal-blue eyes. They sparkle and shine like the ocean on a bright, sunny day. Their serenity calms Riley and gives her the confidence to try and ask again.

Not looking away from his eyes, Riley implores, "Wren, this might be a hard question but just hang with me alright? Now, when your parents were in that car accident, did they ever find your father's body?"

The sky above the ocean darkens as the waves pick up and leave the waters rough and dangerous. The serenity breaks and reveals panic and fear. Wren fidgets as he thinks about Riley's question. He stares ahead, looking through Riley, not answering her.

"Wren!" she shakes his shoulders gently, hoping to snap him out of his scene. "Wren, listen to me! It will be alright! I'm here for you! Just answer my question and everything will be better. I promise, bud. I promise."

Drawing his gaze away from the distance, he brings it back to the girl in front of him. He blinks, pushing the bad memories away and bringing forth the ones he needs now.

"No," he says after another moment. "They never found his body, just, just a lot blood. I overheard the police that day say he wouldn't have gotten far judging by the amount of blood, but they still couldn't find any proof he was actually dead. Why, why do you ask, Riley?" A tear drips down his cheek as his lower lip trembles.

"It's nothing, bud. It's nothing. There's just something I need to take care of right now..." Riley says, avoiding his question. She goes to grab her cell phone behind her but Wren grabs her hand.

His pleading eyes break the outer-shell of her heart, his words make it melt, "Riley? Please tell me what's going on. Please?"

Giving in to him, Riley explains her ideas, "I think your father is still alive. And he, he's been following you from city to city."

"Why…why…?" Wren starts.

"In every city you've been in, there has been a murder involving a family with a boy about your age. Now, I'm not going to give you details but I am a little concerned..."

"Do you think he will come after me?" Wren squeaks.

Honestly, Riley responds, "Yes." Wren closes his eyes, whimpers, and scoots closer to Riley. She strokes his hair and continues, "Shh, it'll be okay, I promise. Listen, I won't let anything happen to you. I will protect you no matter what, got it?

"Remember when you first came to the home and Justin was threatening you? Remember how I stepped in and scared him off? I didn't let him hurt you, did I? I didn't let anything happen to you then and I won't let anything happen to you now. Hey," Riley lifts his chin up so she is looking into his tear-stricken face, "Hey, don't worry, I'm here for you. When I'm around, I won't let anything happen to you."

He sniffles, wipes a stray tear, and returns, "You promise?"

She wipes a tear from his other cheek and replies with a sincere smile, "I promise."

With a smile of his own, Wren wraps his arms around Riley and holds on, never wanting to let go. Riley, not wanting to break up his peaceful moment, lets him there as she reaches for her phone. Realizing the urgency of the situation, she dials Reid's number quickly. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. His answering machine is the pièce de résistance of Riley's already terrible situation.

"Come on, Reid! Pick up your phone!" she mumbles under her breath.

Trying again results in another failed attempt. Sighing, Riley calls Morgan's number. Ring. Ring.

A new sound fills Riley's ear, "Morgan."

"Morgan! Listen to me, I know who the unsub is..." Riley exclaims, practically screaming at the phone in her hand.

"Woah! Riley? Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me," she takes a deep breath and regroups. "Is the rest of the team with you?"

"Yeah, why, why did..." Morgan starts but is soon cut off.

"Just put me on speaker. This will go a lot quicker if we do it that way."

There's another click before Morgan's voice comes through the phone once more, this time at more of a distance, "It's Riley, she says she has something to tell us about the case."

"What do you have for us, Riley?" Hotchner asks.

"The unsub is Wren's father. Wren was in all of those cities during the times of the murders and..."

Prentiss cuts off her explanation, "Wait, I thought you told us Wren's parents died in a car accident."

"I thought so too but apparently his father's body was never found in the crash, they only found a large amount of blood and presumed him dead, and that's not..."

"You think he's the unsub based on these facts?" Rossi asks.

"No, but if you let me finish for once then maybe I can tell you why he is the unsub. Wren was in all of those cities during the time of the murders, and every time he would move, the killer would move. Also, you said the families were taken down to the basement? Well, when Wren still lived with his parents, his dad would take him down to the basement and...hurt him. Now is it making a little more sense to you?"

"So you think Wren's father is following him, why?" J.J asks.

"I don't know...In the murders, the boys were the most mutilated correct?"

"Yes. Occasionally the woman of the house would have some extra cuts on her but the boys' injuries stayed pretty consistent," Hotch responds.

"Wait," Reid cuts in, "From one case to next, the boys' injuries got worse and worse; he was evolving for sure. But here, the boy is only cut up as much as his parents. I originally thought they were surrogate families for this man but..."

"Reid, that's it! They are surrogates! The sons in the family are Wren! You said he's evolving, well maybe not just that, maybe he's building up to something," Riley interjects.

"Building up to the main point of his rage..." Rossi finishes. No one says his name, they all know who this man's target is; Wren.

Avoiding the thought of her brother being mangled like his surrogates, Riley latches onto Reid's words. _But here, the boy is only cut up as much as his parents_.

"You guys are at a crime scene now? And you say it's not like the rest?" Riley asks, filling the silence.

"Yeah. The family was killed in the basement like the rest but the son isn't as torn up. All of the family members have their throats slit like the other cases, but no extra injuries. It's like he was in a hurry to do this," Morgan replies.

Eyes wide in realization, Riley asks another question quickly, "Where is the crime scene?"

"On Orchard Street, southwest part of the city. Why do you..." Prentiss says.

"Get here. Now!" Riley cuts her off.

"Riley, it's rush hour. We won't get there for like 15-20 minutes," Morgan affirms.

"He's coming for Wren. That murder was rushed, he's distracting you, he...he" Riley stops as the door to her room opens with a creak.

* * *

 **As always, please, please, please review! Let me know what you think! Thanks!**


	9. Chapter 8

**As promised, here is the next chapter! I love imagining and writing fight scenes so I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do!**

* * *

A man in a long, beige trench coat walks into the room and looks around his surroundings quickly, assessing any threats. He didn't get this far to get caught now. As soon as he's completely in, he turns and locks the door behind him. Turning once more, his eyes meet Riley's and they stay locked for moments until Riley breaks contact and looks to his feet.

 _He's here. He's here for Wren. How did he find us? Whatever, doesn't matter. He's here now and I need to_ _handle this._

Droning voices near her ear remind Riley of what she was doing before this man entered. She announces into the device, "Yeah guys, I, I gotta go... See-ya in a few?"

Ignoring their persistent questions, Riley hangs up and sets the phone down beside her. She puts her arm around Wren as the man limps to the center of the room. _Hmm, he has a limp. A lot of blood, remember? He was injured in that car accident Bad._ She looks him up and down once more. _Exploit his weaknesses before he can exploit yours Riley. Come on, you have to protect Wren._

At the touch of her arm against his back, Wren looks up to see an all-too-familiar figure standing before him. Memories and emotions overwhelm him as he looks into the face of his father. He tightens his grip around Riley's abdomen making her grunt and squirm with pain.

Looking away from the man briefly, Riley strokes Wren's head and whispers, "Wren, listen to me. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Got it?"

"Riley, he's going to hurt me again! Don't let him hurt me!" Wren sobs.

"Shh, it'll all be alright. Do you trust me?"

"What? Of course, I trust you, Riley. But, but..."

"Shh just listen. Now, when I get up I want you to get under the bed and stay there Then, when you hear me say 'Run!' I want you to run to the door, unlock it, and get out of here. Got it? Hide, then run. Don't even look back alright?"

"But, what will happen to you?" he whimpers.

"Don't worry about me, just run when I say so, okay? I promise I'll be alright. Just do as I say."

"But, but, but..."

"No buts. Do you understand what you're going to do?"

"Hide then run."

Riley strokes his hair once more, "Good, bud. That's good." She glances over her shoulder at the impatient man behind her. "Alright, I'm going to get up now. Just, just do as I told you and you'll be fine. I promise."

He nods grimily and Riley knows it's time to go. Turning, she looks at him once more. _There's just something about him that keeps catching my eye, but I can't put my finger on it._ _Wait..._ Her gaze falls upon the man's coat pocket. The corner of his pocket comes to a sharper point than the other. _He has a knife in there._

Panic rises in Riley. She knows she's no match for this man, not in this condition; she can barely sit up let alone fight a grown man with a knife. She shakes her head. _It doesn't matter. I_ have _to protect Wren._ Riley moves the sheets away from her body and stands tall, determined not to show her weakness to this man.

Wren does as he's told and slips off the bed on the side facing the window. He slides under the bed and settles into a position where he can see everything and make a quick get-away when Riley gives the go-ahead.

The intruder speaks for the first time in his deep, gravelly voice, "I don't want to hurt you, little girl. Just give me the boy and I'll be on my way."

She shakes her head, "If you want him you'll have to get through me first."

The man snorts his disgust, "Why are you even trying to defend _that_?"

"Excuse me?" Riley replies indignantly.

"That child behind you is nothing to fight for. He's useless, whiny, and a nuisance. Just hand him over to me and I won't have to hurt you anymore than you already are," he spits venomously, looking her up and down.

"I'm not sure to whom you are referring because I don't know anyone like that around here. The only nuisance I see right now is you."

Anger boils up inside the man and he gruffly yells as he draws the knife out of his pocket and points at Riley. "What did you say to me?"

"Are you hard at hearing? Maybe you should have that looked at, we are in a hospital, you know. I'm sure there's a doctor around here that would gladly help you out with that," Riley returns, amused. A small smile stretches across her face as she hears Wren stifle a giggle below her.

The man's face turns as red as a lobster recently submerged in boiling water. He can't take any more of this scrutiny. Gripping his knife, he steps forward and lunges at the pesky girl.

Surprised but not unsuspecting, Riley knocks the knife out of his hands with the cast on her right hand. She smiles to herself; _I guess this thing does come in handy._ Clutching the opposite side of her abdomen with her left hand to keep herself steady, she sticks her right arm out - ready to defend her brother.

The knife hits the linoleum floor and bounces from one end to the other before settling flat. Riley sees his intentions before he moves. Prepared, she kicks his hand away as he bends to recover the weapon. Her right leg throbs from the effort but returns to its' calm state as it touches the floor again. Reaching for the blade again, the man gets the same result.

Agitated, he attempts retrieval once more only this time with a new plan. As Riley sticks her leg out to kick, the man winds back and slams his fist into her knee. She cries out as she loses her balance and crashes to the floor. Her shoulder blades hit the cold, hard floor and bruise quickly. Riley gasps as waves of pain wash over her swollen knee. It throbs as she feels it swell to a whole new size.

She closes her eyes, concealing any tears that want to escape. _Get yourself together! Stop this, Riley. Come on, you don't have to beat him; just stall him long enough for the team to get here. They said like 15 minutes, it's been about five. Come on Riley, ten more minutes._

Opening her eyes, Riley sees the man standing over her with the knife in his hand and a smirk on his face. Thinking quickly, she kicks his knee with her left foot. He falls to his right knee, kneeling to the right of Riley. With a deep fire blazing in his eyes, he swings with the knife and cuts through her sweatpants. A crimson stream of blood trickles down Riley's right leg.

Cringing, she realizes how close they are to Wren. Riley scoots back to the wall in front of her bed, hoping the man follows her. The man stays down on the ground, inspecting his left knee. She looks at him and understands why; _that's his weakness! He was limping when he came in here, remember?_ Smiling, Riley uses the wall to help her stand and faces the man below her.

He looks up at her as shock registers on his face; he didn't expect her to get up and fight back, no one has ever done this to him before. Leaning heavily on her left leg and supporting her upper body with the hand across her stomach, Riley swings her cast down and strikes the man in the head, sending him collapsing to his side. He drops the knife as he reaches up to feel the goose-egg appearing on the side of his forehead.

Riley stands between the man and the bed as she speaks through gritted teeth, "I'll give you one chance; leave, now."

The man grabs his knife and stands up, determined to complete his mission. Not wasting another moment, he rushes forward, aiming his knife at Riley's abdomen. She steps to the side and he lands on the bed, stabbing the mattress. Enraged beyond measure, the man pulls his weapon out of the bed and rushes toward Riley.

Unable to move fast enough, Riley feels just how angry he is. He pins her against the wall with his left forearm across the base of her neck. She struggles to breathe as the man finally gets her where he wants her - under his control.

With a devious smirk slapped on his face he leans in close and whispers, "You were a tricky one. I've never had to fight anyone like this before. They were all just so... compliant before. Why are you different?"

Spluttering, she replies, "Because I'm not afraid of you. You prey on innocent people; first your own immaculate family then other innocent families. You can't stand to face a challenge like me, you're nothing but a coward!"

"Shh," he murmurs as he slowly sticks the knife into the flesh of her stomach. Riley grunts as the tip pierces her skin. Methodically, he drags the blade along the front of her abdomen, tearing flesh as he goes. Crimson streaks appear on her T-shirt as he finishes his arts and crafts session. Her body flinches and she closes her eyes to compose herself as he nicks the stitches covering her bullet wound.

"Am I a coward now?" He whispers in her ear.

Riley turns her head away and replies bitterly, "I don't see how hurting a defenseless teenage girl makes you any less a coward. Just wait until someone your own size comes along."

"Oh, I don't think we have to worry about that, now do we?" the man murmurs as he slices a line down the right side of Riley's cheek. She grunts but makes no remark about it. _Stay strong, only a little longer._

"The correct answer here is 'no, nothing to worry about, sir.'" he chuckles as he continues. "I bet I totally had them fooled on that last kill. I barely stuck to my routine, it was gut-wrenching but I did it. And now they have no idea where I am or what I'm doing."

Blood slides out of Riley's neck as he lets the blade dance along her skin. Breathing heavily, she realizes she has to act now to get Wren out of here safely. Riley, ignoring the screams of pain, uses her right leg to trip up the man's left leg and put him off balance enough for her to push him over.

The man slams into the floor, dropping the knife to hold his left leg. Riley jumps on him and presses him to the ground with what little strength she has left. He struggles but she turns his efforts futile for a few moments. Blood drips from her wounds onto his face as she looks up toward her bed.

"Wren, go! Run!" she yells.

Wren, not missing his chance, scrambles out from under the bed and starts to run for the door. He runs past the empty bed, turns to check what's happening and trips over his own feet. His hands and knees bruise as they break his fall.

The obnoxious man below Riley laughs and bellows, "That's the worthless son I remember!" His laughter dies away as he looks up at Riley. "You know, I'm getting real tired of you, girl."

In one swift motion the man frees both of his arms and pushes Riley off of him. She slides across the floor, almost bumping into Wren. Infuriated, Riley stands quickly and in unison with the man across from her. She guards Wren behind her, not letting this man get near him without going through her; just as she promised.

Leaving the knife on the floor, the man takes a step forward and speaks to Riley, "I find it fascinating that you are still trying, girl."

"I could say the same about you." Riley retorts, wiping blood droplets off her chin as they trickle down.

He takes a look at the watch on his wrist for a moment before returning, "I sure did enjoy this meeting, but if you'll excuse me I have some...activities to do with my son." The man goes to take a step around her but she puts a hand up to his chest to stop him.

"Stay. Away. From." Riley begins but is forced to stop as a blow to the head quiets her.

The man swings and punches her across the jaw sending her sprawling to the ground. Her head bangs off the solid floor and she begins to lose consciousness. Migraines erupt around her brain like volcanoes. A thin line of blood seeps out of Riley's head. Only one thing remains on her mind as she eases into unconsciousness. _Wren! No, no, no! He's going to take Wren. Why can't I open my eyes?! I, I can't get up! Wren, I'm... I'm sorry..._

Wren watches his protector collapse like the Berlin Wall. All of his defenses fall; nothing is going to stop his father from hurting him now. _Riley?_ _Why isn't she getting up?_

"Riley!" Wren screeches as he crawls over to her. He shakes her shoulders, begging, wishing, hoping she would move and stand up for him like she always does. Her mouth hangs open as blood drips from her neck and cheek. Her T-shirt is soaked with blood as the gash on her stomach oozes more and more with every faltering breath. Wren presses his hand to her bloodied abdomen, willing it to stop. A tug on the back of his shirt makes him leave her on the floor and stand upright. Vibrant red blood covers his hands as he is forced away.

His father holds onto his collar and leans in close to threaten, "If you do anything I don't like I'll kill her. Understand me?"

Wren nods vigorously. He already put her in this much pain, why cause more? Tears spring to his eyes as he imagines what his father will do to him now that no one is here to stop him. Wren forces the tears down. He has to be strong; Riley would want him to be strong. He takes a last glance at his fallen protector as his father leads him out of the room.

The man shuts the door behind him as he leads his son out of the room. Keeping the knife at his side, he inconspicuously walks down the hallway. He breathes a sigh of relief as they reach the elevator undetected. Wren trembles under his grasp. Rolling his eyes at his son's weakness, the man jabs the knife into the boy's side, letting its' presence be known. His hand leaves his son's neck for a split-second as he pushes the elevator button. With every ding of the elevator the man squirms. Every second here is a risk for him and risks aren't exactly his forte. After what feels like an eternity, the doors finally slide open.

A smile spreads across Wren's face.

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 **Thanks so much for reading! Please favorite/review if you enjoyed and as always, reviews are very much welcome! Tell me what you thought or think so far! :)**


	10. Chapter 9

**Sorry this is a short one but hope you enjoy anyway!**

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With Morgan behind the wheel, the trio including Reid and Hotch pulls up at the entrance of the hospital and jump out of the SUVs. Racing toward the doors, Reid glances down at his watch. _14 minutes._ It's been 14 minutes since Riley hung up. What could have happened in those 14 minutes? The worst-case scenarios appear in Reid's mind as Morgan, Hotch, and he arrive at the elevator. Morgan presses the button indicating they wish to go up. Seconds seem like hours as the men wait anxiously for the doors to slide open and let them in.

A final ping opens the large, metal doors allowing the agents to dash in and press the small, round 3. The doors close and the elevator begins its ascent. The third ping echoes around the metal cabin and the doors slide open to reveal a man and a young boy waiting to get on. The men recognize the boy at once and realize what's going on.

Morgan is the first to whip his gun out of its' holster and aim it at the man. Sticking his foot in front of the door so it doesn't close, Morgan stares the man down, threatening any idea he has of escaping.

"Don't move," Morgan says as Reid and Hotch take a step forward with their own guns. Everything around them seems to come to a halt. Patients and nurses stop in their tracks and watch as the scene unfolds.

Wren's smile fades into a pained look as his father pierces his skin with the blade. He tries to fidget away but the man holds onto him tighter. Wren looks up into Reid's eyes, begging for help.

"Let him go!" Hotch commands from beside Morgan. The man starts to back away with his son in his grasp. The agents take a step in unison, following his every move.

He begins to panic. _I didn't think this through, why didn't I see this coming? It was that girl! That girl slowed me down! I should have been in and out of there in a few minutes but she kept me there for so long! She was stalling me! Oh, I was so stupid!_ He looks up at the gunmen. _Now what do I do!_ A quick glance to the left reveals an empty hallway- a way out. The man brings his focus back to the agents before him and waits for the right moment to make his get away. _On the count of three. One...Two…_

"Don't even think about it!" Morgan threatens, realizing the man's intentions. He takes a step closer to the man.

 _Three!_ He shoves his son toward the agents, turns, and sprints down the hallway. The man only makes it a few steps before his pursuer tackles him to the ground, the knife hits the hard, linoleum floor and bounces out of his grasp. Morgan kneels over the man, holsters his gun, and takes out a pair of handcuffs.

Reid steadies Wren as he stumbles toward him. Kneeling down and holstering his pistol, the agent looks at the boy.

Noticing the blood on his hands, Reid asks, "Wren, what's wrong? What's happened? Are you hurt?"

Looking around anxiously, Wren replies, "No, no! It's Riley! He, he hurt her!" Grabbing Reid's hand, the boy pulls him down the hall toward Riley's room. Reid stands and follows Wren without question.

Agent Hotchner looks over at Morgan, "Do you need any help over there?"

Morgan turns back as he handcuffs the man's arms together and stands him up roughly, "No, I got this. Go check on Riley!"

Hotch follows behind Reid and Wren as they enter the room. Riley lies on the linoleum floor like a discarded rag-doll. Reid kneels down on one side of her as Wren sits by her head. The little boy wipes a stream of blood away from the cut in her head.

Reid presses on her stomach as blood steadily seeps from the gash. "Come on, Riley! Don't do this, please look up." He lightly taps her cheeks. "Riley! Look at me!" Reid breathes a small sigh of relief as he reaches up to her neck and feels a pulse.  
"Wake up, Riley!"

As the pair lean over Riley, Hotch goes to the door and calls, "We need a doctor in here!"

Almost immediately a man in a white lab coat rushes through the door with a male nurse behind him. The coat flutters behind him like a cape as he kneels down beside her.

"What happened here?" the doctor asks as he checks her vitals.

Wren, sitting on the floor with knees brought up to his chest, stares at her as he chokes out, "My...my Daddy hurt her. She said she would be alright!" He buries his head in the gap between his knees and chest, not wanting to watch if Riley was truly O.K or not. Hotchner works his way over to the boy, puts an arm around his shoulders, and whispers in his ear. Wren looks up, tears streaking his cheek, and nods seriously. Hotch smiles back and extends his hand to help the boy up. Placing his blood-stained hand in the older man's, Wren stands and follows him out of the room.

Reid, not noticing the exchange around him, continues to press on Riley's abdomen. "Why isn't she responding?" Reid murmurs to himself, frustrated.

"Sir, you need to step away so we can help her. Sir!" The doctor's voice sounds close to Reid, snapping him out of his trance. Slowly, he withdraws his crimson hands away from Riley and watches as the doctor and his assistant tend to her.

The doctor looks up at the nurse and speaks, "Her vitals are slightly elevated. She's losing a lot of blood though...We need to get her stitched up or she will die of blood loss."

The two men pick the girl up with ease and carry her to the hallway. They carefully place her on a gurney and wheel her down the corridor. The squeak of the gurney wheels echoes through the hospital room. Reid hears the sound even after it has stopped. His mind is in a haze. He can't think straight. Nothing is making sense to him anymore. _Why would the unsub hurt Riley? Maybe she got in the way of his kidnaping Wren? It would make sense; Riley wouldn't let anything happen to Wren...But why would she let this happen to her?_ Reid shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. _How could I let this happen?_

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 **As always reviews are super appreciated! Thanks for reading!**


	11. Chapter 10

**I am so sorry to do this to you all but here is another short chapter! I promise the next one will be much longer; it just naturally broke at this point and I didn't want to make it overly long. So please enjoy despite the lack of length!**

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An hour and a half later, Riley is placed back in her hospital bed. Simple gauze patches cover the gashes on her cheek and neck. 54 carefully placed stitches hold together the furrow along her stomach. A bulky knee brace covers her right knee as it attempts to reduce the swelling. Even with a tube down her throat, Riley looks calm and serene.

Reid silently ushers a solemn Wren into the room. Immediately, the boy bounds over to stand at her bedside. Reid, moving slower than his companion, pulls a chair toward Riley's bed and sits down. Resting his elbows on his knees, Reid strokes the bridge of his nose. Wren turns toward him with expectant eyes.

"What did her doctor say?" he asks softly.

Reid shakes his head and without looking up, he replies, "She has a few stitches and a brace on her leg...but..." A cotton ball seems to fill his throat as he attempts to finish his sentence.

A little worried, Wren asks more tentatively, "But what? What's wrong with her?"

"...but she's in a coma."

Wren hesitates before asking, "What does that mean?

Looking up for the first time, Reid explains. "It's like...it's like she's in a really deep sleep; only she might not wake up. When someone is in a coma their brain doesn't want to wake up so they don't. Riley is in a coma right now, her brain doesn't want to wake up so..."

Shaking and trembling, Wren turns back to Riley and looks her up and down. "When is she gonna stop being in a coma?"

"It's different for everyone. She could wake up at any moment...or she could never wake up. The doctor says it's a 50/50 chance of her waking up or not. There's nothing anyone can do for her. Only time will tell when she wakes up…if she wakes up," he finishes quietly.

A tear glides down his cheek as Wren reaches up to touch Riley's bruised hand. "Riley?" He drops her hand and swivels his head to the side. "Can she hear me?"

"Some people say they can hear what's going on around them when they are comatose. So she may be able to, yes," Reid states.

The cement bindings holding his heart begin to quake. Wren climbs up onto the bed beside her and lies down. Putting his arm across her abdomen doesn't make the hurt go away. More wet drops leak from his eyes. Why won't this pain go away? Why can't Riley be here to help it?

"Wake up, Riley! Please!" Wren sobs into her side. "I need you, Riley! I can't...I can't do anything without you! Please wake up!"

His puffy, wet face looks up into her blank countenance. No eye movement, no nose twitch, no nothing. Riley's body doesn't even acknowledge the boy's distress. More crocodile tears stream down his cheeks.

"Please, Riley. I need you." He whispers. Keeping a tight grip on her, Wren drifts into an uneasy sleep full of nightmares.

The young boy doesn't notice the soft pats on his back as Reid attempts to soothe him. His own eyes begin to grow heavy, as he looks at Riley and Wren asleep. Numb feelings crowd his mind. He doesn't know how to feel. Should he be as sad as Wren? Or should he be strong for the kid? He needs a support system now more than ever; usually Riley is there for him and now she's not. Wren needs someone to help; he's too young to be on his own, Reid understands why Riley was so close to him now.

Shaking his head, Reid picks up a blanket at the end of the bed and covers the children. He decides to sit back down and catch a few hours of sleep himself as he ponders his next move. _How much time can I stay here? I have to work. Wren needs to go to school. He needs someone to watch out for him. But I work and Riley is…not able. I need…I need Riley._

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 ** _Hope you liked it! Please review, always looking for feedback! :)_**


	12. Chapter 11

**So I know I haven't posted in a very long time and I'm extremely sorry for that! Sometimes I get extremely motivated and sometimes I hit a major writer's block which seems to have hit me these last few months!Hopefully this rather long chapter can make up for my terrible prompt-ness.**

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He doesn't leave her side. Four days pass as Riley lingers in her coma and Wren doesn't miss a single moment with her. Whether it be lying beside her or sitting in a chair, Wren always has her in his sights. He doesn't talk unless it's necessary. Doesn't eat unless someone reminds him. He would forget to breathe if he didn't see the steady rise and fall of Riley's chest. He sits in his mind, ignoring the outside world, as he waits for Riley to awaken.

Reid visits them daily; making sure Wren is still eating, drinking, and staying sane. He encourages the boy to go out and hang out with friends but Wren doesn't budge. He won't leave until Riley is O.K again. Everyday the agent comes in, opens the blinds, checks on Riley, checks on Wren, and leaves. Everyday he wishes the boy would go out and do something; anything that gets him out of this room. And everyday he is disappointed to see him still there, watching over Riley like a hawk.

Day Five slowly creeps into the present. It starts as any other, Reid comes in around mid-morning and opens the blinds. Rays of bright, sparkling sunshine explode into the room. Wren's pupils shrink but he doesn't take his gaze away from the bed in front of him. Reid walks over and kneels down beside him.

"It's a really nice day out. Why don't you go out and play? Isn't there a park you like to go to? Or some friends you want to hang out with? I can take you if you want," Reid pushes gently, trying to entice him to leave.

"No thank you," Wren's rough voice answers.

"Wren, she might never get better. You might be sitting here, waiting for months or even years. Why do that to yourself?"

The boy doesn't answer. He sits in his chair and stares at the figure under the sheets. Reid crouches in silence beside him. It takes moments before Wren breaks the glass wall of repose.

"What...what if she wakes up and no one is here? I-I wanna be here if she wakes up."

"I understand. You don't want her to be alone when she wakes up, but you can't live in here until she does. Only time will tell when she wakes up. You could spend weeks, months, or years just waiting for her. You shouldn't put your life on hold just waiting for something that might happen," Reid advises. As much as it kills him to admit, neither of them should loiter in here, waiting for her to come back. They both need to continue with their lives.

A simple tear eases out of Wren's eye. His voice returns to its silky smooth squeak, "But I'm scared. I don't know how to live here without Riley. She would always protect me. She said she would always be there for me." Strangling the arms of the chair, he continues his rant, "And now, when I need her most, she's not here." Wren narrows his gaze. "Why aren't you here to help me!? You promised you would always be here!"

"Shhh, Wren. It's O.K," Reid holds onto the boy's shoulder as he tries to calm him. "Listen, this isn't her fault. If she could be here, helping you, I'm sure she would be. But there's nothing she can do right now either. She can't come out until her body let's her. It's kind of like she's trapped in there. If she were able to break free and help you, I know she would."

Wren crumples out of the chair and hugs Reid, as he sobs, "It's not fair! Why did it have to be her? Why couldn't he have hit me instead? This isn't fair! Why didn't he hurt me instead?!"

Reid strokes his back as the boy cries into him. "Wren, don't wish this on yourself. Riley thought she did what was best for you. She wasn't going to let your father hurt you again. I know she doesn't regret a single thing she did. She saved you, didn't she? That's all she really wanted. Riley wasn't concerned with the consequences; she only thought of you."

"This is my fault...she wouldn't have been hurt if I wasn't here..."  
"No. Don't say that. Riley knew what she was doing. She chose to put herself in that position. And if you hadn't have been here with her, you would have been taken, and we might never have been able to find you. Riley saved you. Just leave it at that, O.K?"

Sniffling, Wren nods. A noise behind him brings Wren out of his mind for the first time in days. A half gasp, half choking noise makes him run over to the side of Riley's bed. Reid gets up and stands beside the boy to find out what's going on.

Riley's eyes open as fast as lightning; her pupils shrink as they accommodate for the light and adjust to see what's going on. Her first shaky breath feels clogged. Putting her hands on the tube lodged down her throat, she panics. Gagging and spluttering, Riley yanks the wet and slimy plastic chute out of her and throws on the ground beside her bed.

Heart beating like a hummingbird's, Riley looks around, confused, and asks breathlessly, "Where...where am I?"

Reid opens his mouth to answer but a man in a white lab coat rushes into the room. He goes to the opposite side of her bed to check her out.

"Riley Walker? Do you know where you are? Do you know why you're here?" The doctor questions with his procedural questions.

"That is my name but...but I have no idea what...what's going on? Where am I?" Her gaze shifts over and seems to skim over Reid and Wren. Turning back to the doctor, "What...where are my parents? Why aren't they here? Where am I?!"

"Riley," the doctor continues, ignoring her questions, "do you know where you are? What's the last thing you remember?"

"I...I remember going to the water park with my friends..." She stops, fixes her gaze on the end of her bed and goes on, "It was my friend's birthday and we had cake and ice cream and then we swam in the pool and went on water-slides...then, I got home late but I still had to go and meet Him- I mean," stopping abruptly, Riley bites her lip to keep herself from uttering her secret to these strangers. Looking up at the doctor she finishes, "That...that's all I remember...Now where am I?"

"You're at the Medstar Washington hospital in Washington D.C. Do you know what today's date is, Ri-"

"No, and I don't care! Where are my parents?! And why am I here? What aren't you telling me?" Riley exclaims, interrupting him.

Reid reaches across and grabs her taped hand, "Riley! What..."

She pulls her hand away and cradles it in her right. Perplexed, she gives Reid a dubious look before interrupting him, "Who are you? Why are you...why are you here?"

Brow furrowed, the doctor walks around the bed and signals for the other males to follow him out of the room. They pursue him and leave the room as he turns, assures Riley they will be right back, and closes the door behind them.

Discombobulated beyond understanding, Riley sits in her bed and looks around at her surroundings. _Alright, I'm definitely in a hospital, like he said. That would be why a doctor is here asking you questions, stupid. But why am I here in the first place?_ Her eyes widen like a deer's in headlights as she looks down at herself. _What happened to me?! What...why does everything ache?_ Riley raises her arms and legs, grunting as the effort leaves her breathless. _What happened to me?_ Taking a quick glance out the door, she spies the man who grabbed her hand. _And who was that guy? Where are my parents? Why aren't they here?_

The doctor shuts the door and turns to Riley's companions. He opens his mouth to speak but Wren interjects him.

"What's wrong with Riley? She didn't even look at me!"

"She doesn't seem to have any idea of what's going on. She has amnesia; it's actually quite common in patients who are returning from a comatose state. Riley looked like she didn't recognize either of you, and she doesn't know what's going on." The doctor turns to Reid, "You said her parents are dead?"

"They were murdered almost a year ago... And she still thinks they are alive..." Reid replies with a hand to his mouth.

"That helps shed some light on this; I think I know what's going on. Her subconscious is taking her back to before she experienced all of this emotional trauma. It's kind of like a stress fracture in her brain. Riley has experienced so emotional and psychological stress since her parents died that her mind is trying to protect her, bring her back to a time when life was better, when she was safer in an ordinary, stable life."

"But why doesn't she remember me?" Wren asks pathetically.

Reid looks down at Wren, "Riley doesn't remember either of us because we didn't become a part of her life until after she came to D.C, which is after her parents died. She only remembers things from about a year ago."

"But...but, she has to remember me!" Wren looks through the glass in the door. An incoherent Riley looks around the room, trying to take in her surroundings. "When will she remember me again?"

"We don't know. It could take hours, or days, or weeks, or even years. Some people never get their memory back..." the doctor replies.

Wren hesitates and hangs his head before speaking, "This is worse than before. At least before I thought she could be the same Riley again. And now...now she will never be the same, she'll never be _my_ Riley..."

"Wren, we don't know that. She might remember any day! It could be tomorrow or the next day...or next week..." Reid replies trying to cheer him up.

The boy stops him, "Or never."

The doctor kneels down to Wren's level and speaks slowly, "You know, sometimes other people can trigger a person's memory back; especially if this person was very important to them. Maybe if you tell her about stuff you did together, it might give her a sense of what's going on."

Wren gives him a crooked smile and shrugs, "I guess I could try..."

The man smiles, nods, and stands to open the door. Wren slowly walks in followed by the other two men. Riley looks up at the boy as he makes his way to stand at her bedside.

Setting his crystal-blue, puppy-dog eyes on Riley he asks gently, "Riley? Don't you remember me?"

Gazing into his eyes, Riley makes no recollection of the boy. She looks him up and down. _Who is this kid? His face says he's seven or eight but he's barely the size of a kindergartener. He looks so young, innocent, and...vulnerable...He would like this boy. It seems like this kid doesn't get fed much, he's like the runt of a litter of puppies. Probably picked on by anyone bigger than him. I shouldn't be mean to him, it seems like everyone else is. I wish I could tell him I remember him but I don't...just let him down easy, be nice._

"Sorry, kid. I don't remember you...What's your name bud?" she asks gently as his eyes sadden.

A tear drips out of his eye as he whines, "Wren. My name is Wren Hill and I'm your foster brother! You..."

"Whoa, whoa, kid! I don't live at a foster home. I live with my parents..."

"No, you don't! You're parents are dead! You live with two other girls, three boys, and me at the foster home on Allen street! Come on, remember!"

"My...my parents are dead? He said...He said He wouldn't hurt them...He umm I mean, what...what are you talking about, kid? There must be some mistake, I'm not who you think I am."

"Yes you are! You're Riley Walker and you live with me at the foster home! Please remember me, Riley! Please! Remember all the fun times we had together, like a week and a half ago when you took me to the park! Or all of our trips to the bookstore where we would sit in the comfy chairs and read until a manager came and told us to leave! You have to remember! No one else cares enough to remember like you do! You've saved my life, Riley, in so many ways. You don't remember that?"

"Kid! I have no idea what you are talking about! I'm sorry, but I don't remember any of this! I wish I could say I knew you but I have no idea what's going on right now! There's so much...there's too much..."

Riley stops to clutch her forehead as her face twists into a wicked grimace. Thinking out loud, "What...what's going on? Why does my head hurt so much? What's going on with me?"

The doctor steps up to beside Wren to speak to her, "Riley? Do you have a headache? A migraine? What's wrong?"

"I don't know! It's like...it's like a terrible headache or maybe a migraine...I don't know it just hurts to think! I can't think!"

"OK, OK, just lie still, Riley. I'm going to try and ease the pain a little," the doctor murmurs as he adjusts the morphine intake. Riley's body falls limp and enervated as the drug is pumped into her veins. Her eyes fall shut lightly as the monitor sounds with the steady beat of her heart.

The doctor turns back to her visitors. "The drug is easing the pain and putting her to rest. There's nothing more we can do until she's comfortable and healthier."

"She...she still doesn't remember..." Wren whispers. "It's like she's here but not. That's Riley's voice and her attitude but what she's saying isn't...isn't what I want to hear..."

"We can try again another time, Wren," Reid says soothingly.

The boy gives a contentious snort, "Nothing will work. There's no point in trying..."

"Don't give up on her now, Wren. You've been staying with her for days and now when she's finally awake you're just going to give up on her? Just walk away like you can't fix it?"

"There's no point!" Wren shouts back. "She'll never remember us and we just have to live with it!" He takes a long glance at Riley sleeping in her bed.

"You can't tell me you believe that." Reid whispers. "There's something inside you that knows that's not true. You have to believe it, Wren."

"I...I just don't know. I want to believe she will get better," Wren says as he moves closer to her bed. "But it doesn't seem like it could really happen..."

"Do you want me to take you home so you can think things through? There's nothing you can do right now while she's resting."

Wren hesitates before he shakes his head, "No, I want to stay here while she sleeps...I want to be here when she wakes up and maybe, maybe I can try again."

"Are you sure?" Reid asks uncertainly.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I...I really don't have anywhere else to go. I don't want to go home alone with Riley here being...being how she is."

Reid nods his head slowly, contemplating whether it is right to leave him here or not. _Should I stay with him? No, I can't, I have work tomorrow. If I could, I would but it's just not an option._ Reid looks back to Riley. _I just wish things were different..._

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 ** _There are only 2 more chapters left in this story and I'm thinking about doing another! Please, please tell me what you think! Maybe more reviews will give me more motivation to write more faster. Thanks for reading! I look forward to any responses! Especially tell me if I should write more after this is done! Always open to ideas!_**


	13. Chapter 12

**Happy New Year everyone! Hoping 2016 can be as good, if not better, than 2015 so I'm starting off with posting a new chapter!Hopefully I can keep up with posting chapters a little more consistently...I already have ideas for another story after this! But anyway, here's a short and sweet little chapter to kind of wrap things up, but there will be an epilogue so stay tuned for that! Enjoy!**

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The sun slowly sinks down behind the towering skyscrapers outside the hospital window. Darkness covers the boy as he sits in the simple chair, watching the girl in the hospital bed sleep. He focuses on the steady rise and fall of her abdomen, never taking his gaze away. His eyes grow tired as the pitch-black darkness replaces the light of the sun.

Exhaustion and fatigue begin to take their tolls as the day drags on. His stomach growls as it tries to remember its last meal. The boy sags in his seat but doesn't leave; he barely moves at all. He's used to this empty, hollow feeling; it barely even phases him now. With eyelids as heavy as sandbags, he allows his eyes a temporary rest as he thinks about what he could say to make her remember. The pitch black of his eyelids envelope the lighter black around the room as he drifts into a sweet sleep.

Loud gasping awakens Wren as he snaps his eyes open to see what is happening. Riley sits up taking air in like it's the only way she can survive. Wren stands to watch as she struggles in the bandages, casts, and slings that restrict her movements. After a moment she regains her steady breathing and lessens her struggling. Laying back against the pillow, Riley turns her head toward Wren. Relief floods through her as their eyes lock.

"Oh, Wren!" She exclaims between deep breaths. "Wren. You're O.K!" She reaches up to touch his face with her bandaged hand just to make sure what she's seeing is real.

"Riley? You...you remember me?" the boy stutters in shock. Just a few hours ago she remembered nothing from this past year, what has changed?

"What? Of course I remember you Wren! Why...why wouldn't I?" Riley asks, surprised by his question.

"Just a few hours ago you had no idea who I was...You didn't even know Reid! You...you...thought you were back at your home in Ohio..."

"I-I don't remember that. The last thing I remember is being hit and then... and then he took you away."

A tear comes to Wren's eyes as consolation spreads through him, into the cracks in his heart. _She remembers. She remembers what happened. She remembers me!_ More tears flow down his cheeks as he stands in the hospital room.

"Hey," Riley whispers softly. She waves her bandaged arm toward him, indicating she wants him to come closer. "Hey, bud, come here. What's wrong?"

Wren goes to stand at the edge of her bed and attempts to speak, "I...I thought I...lost...lost you for good." Sobs replace the slow trickling tears.

"Shhhh," Riley soothes. Pushing the blanket back she makes room for the little boy to climb in. He gets in and clings to his protector. She smoothes his hair as he cries into her side.

"Shhh, what happened? Why...why did you think you lost me? Was it when your dad took you away?" She asks gently.

He shakes his head and explains, "After you...you hit the ground, you wouldn't get up again so he threatened to kill you if I didn't cooperate. He lead me to the elevator and when it opened your friends were there and the really buff one took him down. I brought Reid and the other one to your room and the doctor came in and...and I don't know he helped you I guess. But when I came back in he told me...he told me you were in a coma." Coughing interrupts Wren's explanation.

"I had no idea when you would come back and...and it just killed me to see you like that and to know it was my fault. You...you didn't have to do that...you didn't have to stand up to him."

"Hey," Riley interjects. "This isn't your fault, Wren. I stood up to your dad because I wanted to. I did it to protect you; I wanted to protect you. You...you said I was in a coma? I kind of...remember some stuff you said to me...not complete things yet but I remember the gist of it." She shakes her head to put the fragmented memories aside and focus on the boy in front of her. "This wasn't your fault, bud. If I hadn't stood up to him, you would have been hurt more than you already are," she strokes his tear-stained cheek. "And you don't deserve that."

"But he hurt you so bad! I thought...I thought you weren't coming back...he really knows how to hurt people..."

Riley shakes her head. "No matter how bad it hurt, I would do it over again as long as you came out safe. I understand what you've been through and I don't want that to happen to you anymore. Knowing that you are safe and unharmed is like...it's like a dream. I just wanted you safe and obviously it worked." She gives him a small smile.

Wren wipes his nose and says sheepishly, "Th-thanks Riley...I really don't know what I would do without you..."

Riley strokes his hair and replies, "Shhh I know. I'll always be here for you, bud."

A smile splits his tear-stricken face as he goes on, "You wanna hear the rest of the story?"

Riley yawns, still tired despite just waking up. "Not tonight, bud. You can tell me in the morning," She notices the bags under his tired eyes. "Go to sleep, Wren, it looks like you need some," his protector says as she pulls the blanket over his frail, fatigued body.

"But, I don't wanna go to sleep. I've spent five days just sitting here, waiting, dying to talk to you. I can't sleep now!" A yawn stretches his face as he finishes his last sentence.

A sweet, caring smile finds its way to Riley's face as she returns, "There will be plenty of time to talk later. Get some sleep now. And Wren? Don't worry; I won't leave you again," she brushes his shaggy hair away from his eyes. "I'm always doing what's best for you, remember that. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. I promise."

Wren tightens his grip on her as he cherishes her words. Sweet dreams invade his subconscious as he slips into their world. Relaxed for the first time in days, Wren shuts his eyes and he feels safe and whole. Riley's words bind the cracks and holes in his heart until it feels whole again. Only small bumps and bruises remind him of his past. Feeling loved and cared for, Wren allows himself to rest easy as his protector watches over him like he's been dreaming of for days.

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 **As always, follows and favorites are super appreciated! Also reviews! Please review and tell me what you thought of this chapter and/or this story as a whole! Also tell me what you hope to see in the next story in the Riley saga and maybe I can make it happen! Thanks so much for reading! Have a great new year!**


	14. Epilogue

**Here is the final chapter (well epilogue) for this story! I hope you all enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing! Please review and tell me what you thought!**

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Slam! Clink! The large iron bars of the door slide shut and the man finds himself securely locked in the cell. Rolling his eyes, he plops himself down on the bed and lets out a long sigh. Being alone in the cell has its advantages; no one is here to deny him of doing anything. No one else can take the bed from him. No one else will use the toilet while he's in there. No one will attack him. Despite his advantages, frustration and agitation continue growing in the man.

"If only I had been smarter!" he bellows as he throws his hands above his head and closes his eyes.

A voice from the cell beside his responds, "That's what we all say once we end up here."

"Who asked you, man?" The new inmate counters. He's got no time to make small talk; he's too frustrated with himself.

"Hey, I was just making conversation, here," the voice replies cool and sly. The voice sounds methodical and soothing; intriguing the man to sit up and continue the conversation.

"And what if I didn't wanna conversation?"

"Well then I am sorry for the inconvenience but maybe I am the one who would like the conversation."

"Why? What's it to ya?"

"I've heard a lot about you Mr. Hill...but you know what they say...'the more the merrier.' I want to know the more, Mr. Hill."

Curiosity and suspicion cross through the man's mind. _How does this stranger know my name? What does he know about me? Is it...is it something bad? Or is it something I should be proud of? Maybe I should tell him how many people I've killed! Yeah, tell him something impressive...don't mention your worthless son and that girl though_ _—_ _he will think you're weak and useless._

"I've killed eighteen people," he states proudly as he gets up to walk to the bars.

"I know." the voice replies flatly and uninterested. "Is there anything else you want to mention? Anything at all."

"What...what do you mean?"

"Tell me about your son. I have my ways of knowing these things, Mr. Hill. I'll know if you're lying. Tell me what happened when you tried to kidnap your son."

"I...I couldn't..." the man fumbles. _How does he know this about me? Does he want something from me? What could he possibly want from me?_

"Listen Mr. Hill. I just need to know one thing for sure. The girl that delayed you. What was her name?" The voice grows more demanding, more urgent.

"Uh...I think I heard people call her Riley. Yeah, that sounds right. Why...why do you..."

"How badly did you injure her?"

"Well I don't know...I just did a little or..."

"I need to know exactly, Mr. Hill!"

Taken aback by the voice's tone, the man hesitates before replying, "I uh cut her stomach and she was bleeding a lot...oh I hit her knee and it knocked her down. She really cried out when I did that so I guess it hurt a lot...I left a little cut on her right cheek and one across her neck. Ummm then I hit her across the face and I think it knocked her out...that's...that's it, I guess. I...I..."

"Excellent...Yes, yes that is perfect!" The man's words turn into diabolical chuckles.

The new inmate stands trying to get a glimpse at the man beside him as he laughs away. Curiosity and uneasiness tempt him to ask, "Um, who are you, man?"

The voice's laughter dies down and is replaced by his smooth, hypnotic voice, "You may refer to me as God."

"Why are you called God?"

"That is a story for another day. Now, I have a proposition for you, Mr. Hill..."

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 **Thanks again for reading! Now here's the deal, I have ideas for a fifth, final story but I don't want to write it if there's no interest. So please review and tell me you'd like to see another story! If I get enough comments I'll write another! Hope to hear! Also, if you could review and leave any ideas for the title of the next (final) story (if one is made) that would be great! Thanks!**


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